Cars and Coffee
by Orange-Coyote
Summary: It's just another summer day at Hummel Tires and Lube, until it isn't. Kurt finds himself attracted to a potential customer and feels like that attraction is mutual. But no, he's probably just imagining things. Or is he? [Rated T because everything I write, I give a T rating out of habit.] (Apparently two chaps wasn't enough.)
1. First The Cars

_**A/N: Hi. I know it's been forever. I swear I'm working on LAOS. I just wanted to ease myself back into the writing mood, hence this drabble.**_

_**I know nothing about cars, but this one is focused on Kurt's mechanic side so whatever I've said that is wrong, I blame on artistic freedom and mechanical ignorance. If you see anything that needs fixing, please feel free to let me know about it.**_

_**This ended up being waaaay longer than I expected.**_

* * *

Kurt Hummel has been helping out at his father's business, Hummel Tires and Lube, since he was capable of walking, talking, and safely handling a monkey wrench. His mother had never really been a fan of her two favorite boys bringing automobile grease and oil into her home before they had a chance to clean up fully, but she _did_ love seeing her two boys smiling and laughing after a long Saturday filled with stories regarding regular customers and hapless new ones.

So when Elizabeth Hummel passed, Kurt made even more of an effort to spend time at the garage on the weekends. Not only did it help keep his mind off things, but it felt good to spend more time with his dad, to enhance upon the one thing he felt they really had in common. By the time Kurt hit high school, he could fix basically any domestic car model and even a few imports. He could change a flat tire, replace a transmission, or pinpoint the exact problem when a customer reported their car making a certain noise. In time he became knowledgeable enough to convince Burt to take a few hours off every now and then, despite Burt's grumbling protests that he didn't _need_ any time off, he wasn't _that _old.

Now it was summer vacation for his junior year of high school and Kurt decided to work the garage for a week straight in order to save up some funds for an out of town shopping expedition with Mercedes. He had been doing some research online and apparently one of the bigger mall in Columbus was having an extraordinary sale and Kurt refused to miss out. His dad had already agreed, with the stipulation that Kurt call when he arrived and when he was returning home as well as texting once every hour he was away. Kurt himself had considered it a bit much, but he knew Burt loved him and had an adorable overprotective streak concerning his only son. It felt nice to be cared about, to be loved, so Kurt put up with his father's sometimes annoying tendencies with a sense of fondness.

"Kurt?" one of the shop's employees called out, breaking Kurt from his inner thoughts. He realized then he had drifted off while staring down at a page of inventory regarding spark plugs.

"Yeah?" Kurt called back, straining his ears to hear the voice over the busy sounds of the garage.

"Someone in the front," replied a voice. Sounded like Kevin maybe. "Can you take it or are you busy?"

"No, I've got it!" Kurt shouted.

"Alright." He heard shuffling feet and the sounds of a car being worked on.

Kurt shook his head and made a mental note to order a few more Honda models of the spark plug he had been looking at - apparently nearly everyone in Lima owned a Honda - then made his way out of the office to the lobby where customers either waited for their car to be returned to them or dropped off their keys.

He adjusted the strap of his overalls on his left shoulder and self-consciously wiped his hands down the backs of his thighs, hoping he hadn't gotten any grease on his face. Working at the garage was fun, but it simply was not good for his skin.

All of those thoughts rushed out of his mind when he laid eyes on whom he assumed to be his next customer. A boy not much older than Kurt, definitely a tad shorter though, stood with his hands behind his back admiring the various posters of muscle cars adorning the walls behind the counter. His hair was nearly gelled down to the top of his head, but Kurt could see a few curls escaping from the dark cocoon. A bright blue polo brought out his olive skin tone, and his yellow capri pants would have been a fashion crime on anyone else. But somehow this boy managed to pull it all off.

Kurt closed his already gaping mouth, chastising himself for 1) ogling someone so obviously and 2) doing so to a potential customer. Very unprofessional behavior and absolutely something he does _not_ want getting back to his dad.

So instead of staring some more, he swallowed, put on his "hi-can-I-help-you" face, and approached the boy, who seemingly hasn't even noticed Kurt's presence, he's so enthralled by the different cars. Kurt stood beside him for a minute, his eyes roaming over the familiar pictures: a cherry red Ford Mustang GT, a banana yellow Ferrari with its suicide doors wide open, a deep green Porsche 911 Turbo, and, Kurt's favorite, a sky blue Thunderbird.

Kurt decided then to take the plunge and see what this guy was all about. He cleared his throat politely and the boy turned around suddenly, just registering that he's no longer alone in the room.

"Oh, hi. Sorry. Have you been standing there long?"

Kurt had to fight a smile because not only does the boy look absolutely adorable when he's flustered but around his neck sits a yellow and blue polka dot bowtie. Who even wears bowties outside of a formal occasion?

"Not that long," Kurt assured him. For some reason he doesn't want this guy before him to feel nervous or uncomfortable. It's like something inside of him has already formed an attachment to this person he doesn't know, has never seen before. It's a rush, maybe infatuation? Kurt mentally slapped some sense into himself. _No. Maybe a bit of attraction because he's totally cute, but no infatuation. I won't allow it._

"Oh. Okay. Um, good. I mean... well, I'm glad I didn't keep you waiting for too long. I don't mean to sound rude. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Kurt replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. But now he's wondering, how old exactly is this guy?

"Right."

Nothing else seemed to be forthcoming so Kurt prompted, "You're here because something is wrong with your car?"

"Oh, yeah! Right. See I was driving home from school - I attend Dalton in Westerville - but then my car starting making these weird noises. I know from experience that it's never a good thing when your car makes noises, so I pulled into the nearest mechanic's place I could find. And now here I am."

Kurt nodded understandingly. At least he was smart enough to get it checked before something happened. "Okay. Can you describe the noises for me?"

The boy just raised an eyebrow and looked at Kurt like he's crazy. Kurt sighed. He gets that look a lot in this town.

"It will help me determine what I should be looking for," Kurt explained patiently. "That way I won't have to look over the whole car. It'll save us both some time, and save you some money."

The boy's eyes went wide in realization and he nodded. "Right. Sure. Okay, so it was fine for a while but then I hit this stop light and it made a screeching sound. And when I accelerated again it made a different screeching noise than the first one but it kind of had me worried so I came here."

Kurt nodded, mentally determining to check the brake pads first. "Okay, I'll take a quick look. Then I can give you a rough estimate of the problem and how much it would cost for me to fix it. Where are you parked?"

"Out in front," the other boy stated, pointing through the glass window to a black BMW parked off to the left.

"Lead the way," Kurt responded.

Kurt proceeded to follow him outside, chanting mentally to _not_ look at the other boy's ass no matter _how_ good it looked in those pants.

"Here we are," he remarked once they stood beside the car. The boy opened the driver's side door, popped open the hood, and looked at Kurt to see what was to be done next.

Kurt nodded appreciatively - not everyone just popped the hood of their own accord without him having to ask them to do so - and pulled out a pen sized flashlight from his back pocket before searching around. Nothing seemed amiss so he decided to take a look at the braking system.

As he turned around to move over to the tires, he felt a gaze on the back of his neck. Kurt had a lot of experience with strangers looking at him, whether it be in hate or curiosity, but this one felt different. He turned fully to look over to the car's owner and they locked eyes for just a second before the other boy turned away… wait, was he _blushing_?

Kurt marked it down as wishful thinking - obviously whatever attraction he was feeling was getting to his head now - and bent down to look at the tires and see if anything noticeably wrong presented itself. Kurt nodded to himself, determining to grab the tire jack as well the tire iron and lug wrench.

"I'm going to go in and grab a few tools. Will you be alright for a few minutes?"

"You know what's wrong with the car?" the other boy inquired, his eyes projecting hope. _How can someone's eyes be so expressive? _Kurt wondered.

"I'm ninety percent sure it's something to do with the brakes," Kurt answered. "Well, ninety-five percent," he added when the other boy's expression dimmed. "I just want to make absolutely sure before I tell you what the costs would be."

"Sounds fair. Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Great. Be back in a minute."

Kurt strode back into the garage and dodged various car parts strewn on work benches on his way to the back wall where all the basic tools were kept. He really should have just brought his toolbox out with him. Reaching up, Kurt grabbed the black toolbox with his name on it in one hand and a floor jack with the other. At one time in his life it had taken Kurt both hands and much more effort to even lift a jack off of the floor, but years of working in the garage coupled with yoga and at-home Pilates had increased his strength well enough.

By the time he brought all of his tools back outside, Kurt realized his potential customer was back in the lobby again admiring the posters of old muscle cars. _Was I really gone that long?_

"Hey Mr. …," and suddenly Kurt realized he didn't know the other boy's name. He chided himself for being so forgetful - his dad had taught him to learn the customer's name _first thing_ - and approached his customer. "Excuse me," he said softly, not wanting to give him a scare like the last time.

The curly-haired boy turned around and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. These cars are just stunning."

"That they are," Kurt agreed. He placed his toolbox on the floor at his feet and extended a hand. "I just realized I never properly introduced myself. My name's Kurt."

"Blaine," was the reply as they shook hands.

Kurt attempted to ignore the tumbling feeling in his stomach when his smooth skin touched the other's rougher palm.

"Nice to meet you, Blaine."

"Likewise, Kurt."

Kurt dropped his hand after what seemed too long and picked his toolbox back up again. "Which one do you like the most?"

"Huh?"

"The car posters," Kurt answered.

"Oh. Those. Probably the Mustang. You?"

"Definitely the Thunderbird. I not only like the name of the model itself, but also I love the shape of the body."

"Funny how we both like the Fords, right?"

Kurt chuckled and nodded. "Coincidence, I think not," he joked.

Something in Blaine's eyes changed then, something Kurt couldn't quite pinpoint. "Yeah," Blaine said in an undertone, possibly meant only for himself to hear. "Something like that."

Kurt chose to not point out that he _had_ heard what Blaine just said. "So I'm just going to go back out to your car. it might take a while. would you like to just stay in here until I'm done? I could get you a bottle of water or something if you'd like."

"Water sounds great. But I'd rather watch you work, if that's alright?"

Kurt mentally cheered. He'd much rather have someone to talk to while he worked, but it would have been unprofessional to not at least offer Blaine the option of relaxing in the lobby.

"Okay. There's a mini fridge right next to the counter with sodas and water inside, so grab whatever you'd like and then meet me out by the car."

"Did you want anything to drink?" Blaine offered politely.

_He must be everyone's favorite person with manners like that._

"A bottle of water would be nice, thank you. But you know, I'm the one who should be offering you things, not the other way around," Kurt couldn't help but jest.

Blaine smiled and Kurt nearly smiled too just from that alone. "It's the least I can do. I'm sure you've been working hard all day."

Kurt didn't push it farther, afraid he may say something stupid he'd regret later like "can I look at your face every day for the rest of my life please?"

Instead he nodded his thanks and motioned he was moving out to the car.

When Blaine returned with two water bottles in hand, Kurt had already removed the front driver's side tire. Blaine whistled admiringly and Kurt fought the blush threatening to rise into his cheeks.

"You work quick," Blaine commented as he placed one water bottle down beside Kurt and uncapped the other for himself to take a swig.

"I've been doing this for a long time," Kurt shrugged.

"How long?" Blaine wondered aloud.

"Since I could walk, talk, and safely manage handling tools."

"That seems a while. So, what? Like ten years?"

"Give or take," Kurt replied. He focused on not pinching his fingers as he removed the outer layer of the brake pad. It looked corroded and worn down, so at least Kurt knew now he had guessed correctly. Not that he had much doubt in his prognosis to begin with. But better safe than sorry.

"Well, your brakes definitely need to be replaced," he told Blaine unquestionably.

"Will it be an expensive fix?" Blaine asked apprehensively.

Kurt felt bad for saying the cost, hearing the anxiety in Blaine's voice. But he couldn't lie to him, even with not knowing him at all. "Yes. It'll be about $1,500 to fix all of them."

Blaine's shoulders relaxed and his worried frown melted away into his normal expression. "That's not too bad," he observed, to Kurt's surprise.

"Not too bad?" Kurt asked incredulously.

"Well, not really. I thought it might be more than that."

A million thoughts flew through Kurt's mind but he wisely voiced none of them. He simply asked, "Should I assume you'd like me to fix it then?"

"Yes," Blaine answered assuredly. "How long will it take, do you think?"

"I have a few other projects I need to get done beforehand, but I can have it ready by tomorrow morning for sure. Would that work for you?"

"That'd be fine. How much do I owe you?"

"Usually we don't charge until after the repair is finished. I can give you a rough estimate right now, but it may fluctuate in actuality depending on how long it takes me to get everything fixed and whether or not we need to order the parts you need."

"An estimate then."

"Seeing as I'll have to remove the tires to get to the problem area, which adds about an hour to the whole ordeal, I'd say roughly $1,250. And that's including labor."

"Seems fair to me."

"Okay. I'll need you to come in and fill out some forms while I move your car."

"Sure thing."

Kurt led Blaine back into the lobby, sitting him down in the waiting area before walking off to grab the clipboard and paperwork he'd need to fill out. He took the keys from Blaine when they were offered to him and moved the car into the garage. He relayed to Kevin and Hank, the other employees, the issue with the car and the deadline, and then went back in to check on Blaine's progress.

Surprisingly, Blaine had already completed all five pages of it.

"Do you need me to do anything else?" Blaine inquired once Kurt was finished going over the forms to make sure Blaine hadn't missed anything.

"Nope, that about covers it," Kurt answered.

"Okay. So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Are you going to be okay without your vehicle? Do you need a ride anywhere?"

"That depends," Blaine retorted slyly. "Are you the one offering the ride?"

Kurt blushed - damn his pale skin - and nodded.

"Then yes. Yes, I do."

* * *

_**A/N: This was supposed to be a short drabble and now it's a two-shot. What is wrong with me?**_

_**I blame Klaine. They took my idea and ran away with it.**_

_**Up next: a coffee date, some flirting, and an exchange of phone numbers.**_


	2. And Then The Coffee

_**A/N: This take places right where the first half left off. If anything doesn't make sense, it's my fault.**_

_**Can't believe I already have a response on this story so soon after writing it! You readers are all amazing.**_

* * *

Kurt checked his watch. He was due for a break so he should have enough time to drop Blaine off wherever it was that he needed to go. And honestly, even if he hadn't, he would have made the time.

"Just let me change clothes and let the others know I'm taking off and then I can drive you wherever you need to go," he informed the other boy.

"Sure, no problem. I'll just continue to creepily stare at the car posters."

Kurt laughed. "Yeah, you do that."

Blaine smiled at him and Kurt had to force himself to turn away.

He rushed through getting redressed, not that he would ever admit it, and checked his hair in the bathroom mirror before leaving the room and grabbing his car keys. Blaine stood waiting in the lobby, eyes glued to the car posters as he'd promised.

"Ready to go?"

Blaine turned and nodded.

They left the shop together, Kurt waving goodbye to Kevin who had come to stand at the doorway. Apparently Burt's protective streak over his son had rubbed off on his workers.

"Which one is yours?" Blaine asked once they reached the sidewalk.

Kurt pressed the unlock button on his car remote and let the resounding beep answer Blaine's question for him. It was always more fun to see people's reactions when they didn't know what to expect. He fondly remembered Rachel squeaking the day she had spotted Kurt pulling up in his baby when he had driven to school after his sixteenth birthday.

Blaine let loose another admiring whistle, much like the first one from earlier, and walked over to the spotless and gleaming Escalade. He ran his hands down the driver's side door and turned to smile at Kurt over his shoulder. "Is everything you own as immaculate as you are? Or is there an exception?"

Kurt returned the smile and shook his head. Blaine was entirely cheesy, but he kind of loved it.

Kurt stepped closer to the vehicle and swatted Blaine's hands away. "It won't be immaculate if you keep touching it."

Blaine lifted his hands in the universal sign of surrender. "Sorry."

"Forget about it," Kurt replied. "Luckily for you there doesn't seem to be any noticeable damage."

"I just touched it," Blaine whined defensively. "It's not like I licked it."

Kurt repressed a laugh and faked a shudder. "Ew."

"Shush," the other boy retorted. "Get in the car and let's go."

Kurt rolled his eyes but complied, climbing into the driver's seat as Blaine did the same on the passenger's side. "Where are we even going, Mr. Bossy Pants?"

"Mr. Bossy Pants? Really?"

"Don't judge me. I might just leave you on a deserted highway."

"You wouldn't."

"How do you know? I might even be a serial killer who serendipitously ran into a victim who's just my type."

"So I'm your type, am I?" Blaine teased.

Kurt ignored him, putting the key into the ignition and bringing the car's engine to life with a reassuring purr. "Where am I taking you?"

"To answer your previous question, I know you wouldn't ditch me because you're too nice for that."

"Which leads me to reiterate my earlier point: How do you know?"

"You emanate compassion, Kurt."

The way Blaine said his name, the way he pronounced so carefully with a emphasized "t" at the end like a fragile, cherished thing, had Kurt's stomach dropping and his heartbeat picking up. _This is so stupid,_ Kurt mentally grumbled. _All he did was say my name and I'm already turning into mush._

"I'll let you think that," he quipped, hoping his voice sounded as strong and casual aloud as it did in his mind.

"The Lima Bean."

Kurt put his foot back on the brake pedal and turned to stare at Blaine like he had suddenly sprouted three heads and a pair of wings. "What?"

"That's where you'll be taking me. The Lima Bean."

"Oh."

"Do you know where that is?"

"Yeah, my friend Rachel and I got there often. it's the only local place with decent coffee."

"Great. Drive on then , partner."

"Partner? Really?"

"Don't judge me."

* * *

"Why The Lima Bean?" Kurt asked ten minutes into the drive.

The coffee shop was still a good fifteen minutes away, depending on traffic. He had be a gentleman and let Blaine choose a radio station. The other boy had decided on a top 40 station and quietly sang along to basically every song, which made Kurt smile even when he didn't really enjoy the songs themselves. Blaine had a beautiful voice and it seemed like he was a natural performer, tapping his toes and dancing as much as his seatbelt allowed him. Kurt stole glances every now and then, torn between complimenting Blaine's enthusiasm and just laughing at the adorable faces the other boy made. He felt good though that Blaine seemed comfortable enough to be himself.

"Supposed to meet some of my friends there on the way home."

"That's nice. Do they all sing as well as you do?"

Kurt smirked victoriously when Blaine blushed self-consciously and turned his face away to look out the window at the passing scenery. Now Blaine could know what Kurt had felt like earlier beneath the relentless flirting and teasing.

"I guess that depends on who you ask," Blaine eventually mumbled in reply.

"I'm asking you."

"In my opinion, yeah. The Warblers are all talented dudes."

"The Warblers? Is that a name you gave yourselves like The Marauders?"

"Actually it's the name of our school a cappella show choir. But the Marauders are cool too."

"You have a Glee club?"

"Yeah. Why, do you?"

Kurt nodded, the fond exasperation he felt for New Directions flooding his chest. "Yeah."

"Ooh," Blaine cooed excitedly. Kurt could hear him turning in his seat to see Kurt's reactions firsthand. "What's it called?"

"New Directions."

"Nude Erections? What kind of name is that?"

Kurt laughed despite himself. "No, no. New, as in the opposite of old. Directions, as in north and south."

"Oh. Sorry."

"You're not the only person to hear it that way at first," Kurt consoled. "It's an inside joke of the club's too, at any rate."

"If it makes you feel any better, once at a family gathering when I was explaining my extracurricular activities an aunt asked if we Warblers actually yodeled. Apparently warbling and yodeling were synonymous in her day."

Kurt shared a laugh with Blaine and slowly pulled to a stop within the Lima Bean's tiny parking lot. "We're here."

"You should come in with me," Blaine remarked. "I can buy you a coffee for fixing my car."

"I haven't even started working on it yet," Kurt argued. "Which I should probably get back to the garage and start doing."

"Please," Blaine insisted. "It's the least I can do."

"That seems to be your catchphrase today," Kurt quipped.

"I want to," Blaine persisted. "Come on."

Somehow the sincerity in Blaine's voice and the hope in his eyes won Kurt over, and before he really knew what he was doing, he was parking his baby and stepping down from his car to walk into the Lima Bean by Blaine's side.

"Wouldn't I be intruding?" Kurt wondered aloud as they stepped over the threshold, a light tinkle of the bells overhead acknowledging their entrance into the establishment. "You said you were meeting your friends here."

"Not at all," Blaine promised. "They won't be here for another ten minutes or so anyway. Jeff and Nick have a tendency of being late to everything."

"If you say so."

The line was relatively short today so within a few minutes they had their turn at the counter. Blaine ordered a medium drip and a chocolate biscotti before turning to Kurt with a questioning glance.

"Oh, no, you don't have to," Kurt stumbled. He wasn't used to cute boys buying him coffee. Being with Blaine had been easy and natural until now, but in that moment it felt too much like a date, which upset Kurt's balance a little. He'd never been on a date.

"I told you, I _want_ to." Blaine gave Kurt a silencing look when Kurt opened his mouth to object. "What's your usual order here?"

"Grande nonfat mocha latte," Kurt conceded after a few seconds of pointedly staring Blaine down. The boy definitely had a backbone, because usually people would back down after a few seconds of the infamous Hummel glare.

"And one grande nonfat mocha latte," Blaine added to the barista standing behind the register. She smiled at Kurt - she knew him as a regular customer - and Kurt sighed dramatically to show he really had no choice in that matter. At that, Blaine turned to playfully scowl at him.

After Blaine had paid for their order, despite Kurt's insistence that he could pay for himself, the duo stepped off to the side in order to await their drinks.

"You didn't have to do that," Kurt maintained for the fifth time.

"I know. I _wanted_ to," Blaine emphasized, also for the fifth time. "Are you this cranky with your friends?"

"I'm not being _cranky_," Kurt retorted. "I'm just stating a fact."

"As am I," Blaine replied. "I wanted to buy you coffee, so I did."

"You're incorrigible," Kurt muttered.

"I know," Blaine chirped.

"Kurt and Blaine!" came from the direction of the counter, breaking the two from their debate.

"I'll go get it," Blaine stated. "You find us a table."

"Whatever you say, Mr. Bossy Pants."

Blaine chuckled and went off on his way, leaving Kurt to scan the room in search of a free table. Most of them were already taken, by a group of teenagers catching up or a businessman or businesswoman here and there working away on their laptops or smart phones while taking intermittent sips of their drinks. Finally Kurt spotted an empty table for two tucked away in the back corner of the café, shielded from view by two potted shrubs.

He made his way over and sat down, keeping an eye out for Blaine in case he hadn't seen where Kurt chose to sit.

Blaine stood where he had left Kurt, eyes roaming the room for any sign of the coiffed hair he had come to associate with his beautiful mechanic.

"Over here," Kurt called out when he realized Blaine hadn't seen him yet, waving his arm in the air as an added aid.

Blaine's eyes locked onto him and then the curly-haired boy was sitting down across from him, sliding one steaming cardboard cup over the table's surface into Kurt's waiting hands.

"Thank you," Kurt said demurely before taking a sip and sighing delightedly while the rich flavors rolled down his throat.

"No problem," Blaine responded as he took a sip of his own drink.

They sat in mutual silence for a few minutes. Kurt tried to think of something interesting to say, anything at all really, but Blaine beat him to the punch.

"What kinds of music do you like?"

"I love Broadway, adore Lady Gaga, and of course The Beatles are iconic. What about you?"

"Broadway, check. Beatles, I can appreciate their music, sure." Blaine paused to take a bite of his dessert pastry and Kurt tried not to admire the way Blaine's lips wrapped around the stick of chocolate cookie. "I guess I'm the type who just listens to whatever's on the radio, unless something really moves me and I just have to check it out myself."

"I can understand that," Kurt replied. "There are certain artists I like that are out of my usual comfort zone, simply because I feel like I can relate to their music on a personal level."

"Exactly," Blaine agreed.

They continued to chat about little things: favorite colors and who did the most chores at home, who had more homework and whose friends were the crazier ones, their first solos and their most recent favorite fashion trends, among others. Kurt realized he and Blaine had a lot in common for two boys who were complete strangers.

"Oh wow," Kurt exclaimed when his phone began vibrating in his pocket. His dad was calling him. It had been an hour since he left the garage!

"Is something wrong?" Blaine asked, his brow scrunching in concern.

"No, I don't think so," Kurt assured. "One second."

"Hey Dad. No, no I'm okay. I'm at the Lima Bean… with a friend. No, not Rachel or Mercedes. You don't know him, Dad. Yes, the boy Kevin saw me leaving the garage with earlier. No, nothing like that. We just got to talking and I lost track of time. No, I didn't think I would be out this long. I'm sorry for worrying you. Yeah, I'll head home in a minute. Okay, okay. I'll head home now. Love you too. See you soon."

"Are you in trouble?" Blaine asked when the one-sided conversation (to him anyway) ended.

"No, my dad just wants me how to start on dinner. You know he can't cook to save his life."

Blaine chuckled. "Yeah, you've said as much. So, you're sure you're not in trouble?"

"I'm not. He was just worried since Kevin told him I had left an hour ago for my break and didn't come back."

"I'm sorry. I should have been paying better attention to the time."

"It's not your fault. But I do have to get going." Kurt rose from his seat, grabbing his now long empty cup with one hand and extending the other in Blaine's direction. "It was nice meeting you."

Blaine stood as well and took Kurt's hand in his. Kurt felt that same tingling feeling from before take over. "Likewise." They stood wordlessly, hands grasped, and Blaine quietly uttered, "We should do this again sometime."

"What?" Maybe Kurt had misheard. Sure he and Blaine had gotten along swimmingly, but they were total strangers. And Kurt hadn't even fixed Blaine's car yet! _Oh God Dad's going to kill me._

"I'd truly like to get to know you better, Kurt, and I hope you feel the same. I was hoping we could maybe hang out again sometime. We could exchange numbers, if that's okay?"

"Um, sure. Yeah. I mean, that would be wonderful."

Blaine's smile grew and Kurt swore it was so bright it could light up an entire village for a day. Kurt smiled in return.

"Great! Here, let's just trade phones. It'll be easier and save some time." With that Blaine removed his hand from Kurt's, leaving Kurt feeling a little empty if he were being honest, to reach into his satchel and pull out his phone to hand to Kurt. Kurt took it from him and took his own phone out of his pocket to hand to Blaine.

Within seconds they had exchanged numbers, the wonders of advanced technology, and were saying their last goodbyes. Well, not really "goodbye." More like "I'll see you later." Because they would see each other again, Kurt was sure of it.

* * *

_**A/N: And there it is! All written within a two hour time span and off the top of my head. Gotta love the mysterious ways in which Klaine work.**_

_**My mom and I giggled over how adorable these two are. They're such dorks.**_


	3. Afterwards

_**A/N: Hello again! So apparently when I called this fic a two-shot, I accidentally lied. I had every intention of it being a two-shot at the time of its conception, but a few people requested something more, some Warbler action and Burt's reaction specifically. And who am I to deny my readers something I'd love to see just as much?**_

_**Sunday update, as promised! I'm amazed at myself keeping to an actual schedule.**_

_**This shifts between Blaine and Kurt, which is shown by the break lines.**_

_**Enjoy! (Let's see if you guys want another chapter after this one.) :)**_

* * *

Blaine stood for a few seconds more, watching as Kurt got into his vehicle and drove away. He sent one last wave in the countertenor's direction before resuming his seat at the small table. He stood up again when he realized there was no way he would sit here with Nick and Jeff. It was bad enough they inevitably tease him about Kurt, but there was really no need to allow that teasing to happen at his and Kurt's table. Because in Blaine's mind, this table had become theirs.

Luckily one of the larger areas had opened up, the group of teenagers who had occupied it during his conversation with Kurt finally left, so Blaine grabbed his nearly empty cup, drained its last dregs, and sat down facing the window. It'd be best to see Niff when they arrived, to get a feel for how their mood was. If they were being particularly rambunctious, he might just save the news of Kurt for later, when they weren't in a public place they could be banned from forever.

Momentarily a black sedan pulled into the parking lot and Blaine recognized it as Nick's when he spotted the vibrant "We're here, We're queer, Get used to it" bumper sticker. Blaine shook his head fondly at the sight. It was a miracle his car hadn't been bashed to pieces by now in a town like Lima with a bumper sticker like that. But Nick took pride in rattling the homophobes of the town and wouldn't remove the sticker despite what anyone told him, so Blaine eventually gave in and admitted how awesome it was.

The duo currently walked through the doorway and over the threshold, the tingling from the bell hanging above the door announcing their presence to anyone who cared enough to look up. Blaine heard a sigh and some whispers from the girls sitting at the table behind him and smiled to himself. If only they knew what Nick and Jeff were _really_ like. They'd probably think twice.

Blaine watched silently as the two went up to the counter and ordered their drinks and snacks. Eventually he decided the table would be safe enough for a moment and approached the counter himself to order another coffee. He would definitely need it with those two.

"Blaine! Why didn't you tell us you were already here?" Nick chastised when he spotted Blaine standing in line to place his order. He and Jeff walked over to their friend and shook hands, clapping Blaine on the back just loudly enough to be heard throughout the entire room. Blaine shook his head and opened his mouth to speak but Jeff spoke instead.

"You trying to hide from us, Blainers? Because you know that doesn't work."

Blaine smiled a knowing smile. "Don't I know it. I remember last Halloween very well."

Nick and Jeff laughed in sync. "We warned you," Jeff reminded.

"But you just wouldn't listen," Nick added.

"The past is the past, gentlemen, and let's leave it at that."

"You just don't want us talking about how you -"

"Close your mouth this instant Nicholas or I will be forced to reveal your innermost secret."

Nick's jaw snapped shut quicker than a gazelle escaping a hungry lion. Blaine smirked triumphantly while Jeff side-eyed the two of them curiously.

"I'm not even going to ask," the blond determined aloud.

"So, Blaine, how long have you been here?" Nick asked, obviously changing the subject as far away from his innermost secret being revealed as possible. Blaine considered lengthening his friends' duress, but decided to let him off the hook.

"About an hour now, I think."

"An hour? You never let us be more late than fifteen minutes before you start calling and texting up a storm," Jeff interjected disbelievingly. "What kept you occupied for an hour?"

"Nothing," Blaine answered. He stepped forward and realized he was next in line (when had that happened?) and gave the barista his order, paying and stepping to the side, all with Jeff and Nick at his heels.

"I don't believe that for a second," Nick retorted. "Oh God, did you _meet _someone?"

Blaine fought the smile trying to break across his face and the heat rising in his cheeks. Unfortunately, his friends knew him well enough to recognize the signs.

"You did!" Jeff exclaimed. You met someone here while we were on the way. Okay, so tell me, is he cute? Smoking hot maybe? Does he sing? How old is he? Where does he live?"

"Jeff, calm down."

"Yes, Jeff. Let's interrogate our curly-haired friend in a more private setting, shall we?" Nick shared a meaningful look with his fellow Warbler and the other boy nodded. Blaine still admired the way Nick could effortlessly keep Jeff's effusive energy at bay when no one else could.

"Medium drip for Blaine!"

"That was quick."

"Just get your coffee so we can sit down. My feet hurt," Jeff complained good-naturedly.

"Then go sit down," Blaine responded as he went off to grab his drink from the counter. When he turned back around Nick and Jeff were already sitting at the table Blaine had moved to occupy just before their arrival. He sat down across from them, dreading the interview to come yet relishing the idea of having someone to talk with about Kurt at the same time.

"Alright, Blaine. Talk."

"Nice weather we're having, isn't it?"

"Not that kind of talk," Jeff whined. "Stop being an ass."

Blaine sighed, twisting his fingers around his coffee cup, tracing his fingertips along the Lima Bean logo embossed onto the cardboard. He wanted to talk, Kurt was _amazing_, but at the same time he didn't really know what to say.

"Fine, we will start from the beginning. How did you meet him?" Nick prompted.

"At the mechanic's, right after I texted you guys I might be late."

"Okay, so he was getting his car fixed too?"

"No, he works there. With his dad."

"A grease monkey, Blainers? Doesn't seem like your type," Jeff commented.

"You didn't see him, Jeff. He's _gorgeous_."

* * *

Kurt pulled into the driveway of his family's humble abode with a complex mixture of trepidation and delight mingling in his stomach. Trepidation because, obviously, his father would soon question why his son had deemed it necessary to take off from work at the garage and then not return. Kurt wasn't exactly sure how much he felt willing to divulge about his date with Blaine. It had been a date, right? They had coffee and got to know each other, and that's what a date was supposedly all about.

Kurt shook his head away from the thought. _Not a date…yet._

Delight because, equally as obvious, he still felt on a high from his time with Blaine. Just thinking of the boy's name had Kurt's heart beating that little bit quicker.

He shrugged of his sweater, hanging it on the coat rack in the tiny entrance hall closet before stepping fully into the living room, expecting his father to be waiting with his "disappointed dad" face fully in place. Pleasantly surprised to find the room empty, Kurt contemplated sneaking up to his room for a few minutes to compose himself before the inevitable questioning began. He had just taken a deep breath and turned toward the stairs when a voice called out from the kitchen, "In here, buddy. And don't even think about it."

Kurt sighed. He should have known better than to think he could escape his father, especially when he had sounded so worried during the phone call earlier. Time to face the music, whatever that may entail. Hopefully no groundings. If he became stuck in the house, how would he meet up with Blaine again?

He pulled his shoulders back and lifted his chin, determined to play the confident act. Walking into the kitchen took more courage than Kurt liked to admit.

He found Burt sitting at the same table where he and Finn had been given "the talk" after word got around about Quinn's pregnancy. The words "you matter" would always be in Kurt's head from then on.

"Sit down, son," Burt requested, waving his hand toward the empty seat across from him. Kurt obeyed, admittedly sitting further on the edge of the seat than usual.

"Now, let's start with why you left the garage."

"A customer needed a ride to the Lima Bean because his friends were meeting him there. I felt bad about that he might miss them since his car needed to be taken in, so I offered to give him a ride there."

Burt nodded. "Admirable. A little stupid, but admirable. You had no idea what kind of man he could have been, Kurt. You still might have no idea."

Kurt shook his head adamantly at the thought. "Blaine's really nice, Dad. I swear."

"I'm sure he made you think that. How old is this Blaine?" Burt inquired suspiciously.

"My age. He attends Dalton in Westerville."

Burt released a gust of breath at the answer. "That makes me feel a little better, I'll admit."

"I'm not _that_ stupid, Dad. I think I can judge a person's character well enough to avoid any dangerous situations."

"Young people always think that. But as your dad, it's my job to keep you safe and happy. Whether you like me to or not." Kurt nearly bristled in his seat so Burt explained further. "Kurt, you're almost an adult now. I get that I won't be here to watch over you forever. I get that you want to make your own choices and decision regarding life. I _do_ trust your judgment, son. Don't get that wrong. I wouldn't let you run the shop every once in a while otherwise. I just like to be in the know, is all."

Kurt deflated with a sigh. He knew his dad was right. After everything that Kurt had gone through, the bullying, his mother's passing, and more, Burt's protective streak made more than enough sense. "I know, Dad. I know."

"Good. So why don't you tell me about why you left, what you did while you were gone, and why you didn't call Kevin to let him know you weren't heading straight back."

Kurt resisted the urge to laugh. His father could co from dead serious to playful in under five seconds. Just another thing Kurt loved about him.

"Well, I looked over his car, gave him the estimate, and had him fill out the paperwork. Then when I asked if he had someone picking him up, he asked if that was my way of offering him a ride. As I said earlier, I agreed to give him one."

"Must have been quite the looker," Burt interrupted with a playful glint in his eye, "for you to take to him so quickly."

"_Daaaaaaad_." Kurt hid his face in his hands, peeking up through his fingers at his father's stupid grin.

"I'm sorry," Burt apologized, looking less sorry than a dog caught eating from the refrigerator. "Go on."

"Anyway, when we arrived there he asked me to come in with him, so he could buy me a coffee in thanks for fixing his car. I mentioned that I hadn't even started any work yet, but he insisted. He seemed like the type to be extremely polite to everyone. We went in and ended up talking the whole time. We have so much in common, Dad. It's unreal."

"And this Blaine does well in school?"

"Yes. He's on the honor roll every year, a huge teacher's favorite from what I gathered, and he's in the glee club there as well as a few sports teams during the summer."

Burt smiled knowingly. "You heard him sing, didn't you?"

Kurt knew better than to ask how Burt knew that fact. Moms had mother's intuition about most things, and Burt had what he liked to call "Kurt senses," a name Kurt both laughed at and cringed at. So cliché, but also totally adorable.

Instead he simply nodded in reply, a smile unconsciously stretching his lips as he thought back to Blaine singing along to the radio in the car on their way to the Lima Bean. That smooth voice that ran over a person's being like warm honey and soothed the soul of anyone within earshot.

Burt guffawed. "I thought as much. Just like your mom, a sucker for a guy with a good voice."

Kurt guffawed in return. "Says the man who can't sing to save his life."

Burt huffed. "Hey now, I serenaded your mother once and she happened to enjoy it very much."

"I know, Dad. Just messing with you."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, both caught up in memories of Elizabeth Hummel singing around the house as she completed daily chores or holed up in the bathroom taking a relaxing bubble bath. Her voice alone remained clearly in Kurt's memory. Everything else about her, her scent, the way she walked, had slowly faded away over time. But not her voice. That would remain in his heart and mind forever, Kurt would make sure of that.

"You like this boy, do you?" Burt asked softly after a few moments of reminiscing had passed.

"Yeah," Kurt replied, his voice equally as soft and tender. "I really do."

* * *

Two cups of coffee each, a few scones of various flavors, and another serving of chocolate biscotti had been devoured in the meantime. Plus Jeff had gotten the pretty barista's number. He planned on setting her up with Thad. He needed to loosen up.

After listening to Blaine gushing over the Kurt guy for ten minutes straight, Jeff and Nick seemed thoroughly amused and equally happy for their friend.

"That's great, dude," Jeff exclaimed at the end of Blaine's breathless description. "I'm glad you've found someone to be truly interested in."

"Yeah," Nick agreed. "You deserve some happiness in your life."

"Thanks guys," Blaine responded. "You're not going to tell Wes and David, are you? They'd have my head for "being distracted" so close to the school year starting up again. You know Wes goes into Warbler mode soon."

"Of course not," Jeff vowed. "I can't believe you'd think so lowly of us."

"My lips are sealed," Nick swore, even going so far as to motion with his hand that his lips were zipped shut.

Even as they said the words, Blaine had a feeling the other Warblers would know of his "date" with Kurt soon enough.

* * *

_**A/N: And that's where I'll leave it.**_

_**Hope you guys enjoyed! I really loved writing this fic. (and yes I am open to more for this verse, if the demand for such a thing arises.)**_


	4. We're Off To See The Mechanic's Son

_**A/N: I just realized something: I've never officially thanked the person who initially set this who story in motion. Lynsey (aka **_lovrgrl5_** on this site and did I mention her fics are great?), thank you for motivating me to write this. Thank you for saying "you should write something!" because I guess that's really all I needed to hear.**_

_**This particular chapter (and the ones following it) has been inspired by you guys, not only because you asked for more but because you asked for something specifically. And, as I've said before, who am I to say no to my loyal readers? You all not only make my day, but also you make me love this, writing, even more.**_

_**Special shout out to user RoriPotter for the stalking!Niff inspiration. Oh and also to Cadie (**_cakerbee_ **on Tumblr, who also writes amazing stuff, if you like majorly angsty works) for helping me out through a writer's block moment.  
**_

_**I felt like breaking the meeting into two parts because it just felt better that way. So this chapter is basically super short as it's just the lead in moment.**_

_**P.S. I'm making up what the garage looks like so just go with it.**_

* * *

A week had passed since the day Blaine and Kurt met, since the day they exchanged phone numbers, since the day Kurt learned Kevin and the others had fixed Blaine's car for him while he was gone, since the day Burt had reminded him "you matter."

The two high schoolers kept up constant conversation within those few days, texting during busy times and actually taking the time to call when they had more time to spare. Hearing Blaine's voice awakened something within Kurt he thought had died long ago, something like believing in the prospect of love at first sight. Even though technically it wasn't love just yet.

Back in Westerville, Jeff and Nick took any and every opportunity to pester their curly-haired friend into giving up the dirt on his sweet Kurt. They wanted to meet him, to see him, to hear his voice over the phone. Blaine gave them no satisfaction in any of those departments. He _did_ catch them with his phone in Jeff's hands when he came out of the bathroom at the Lima Bean during their second trip of the week to the establishment, but he didn't deem anything to be awry after a quick scroll through his recent calls and text inbox so he let it go. That was a big mistake.

Nick, thanks to his older brother, knew computers and cell phones like the back of his hand. He knew how they worked, how to ping a location, how to track an IP address, how to hack an iPhone, and more good stuff that a good amount of other teens had learned over the years. So it proved extremely simple to grab Blaine's phone while he was out of the room, go through his texts, find the number listed under 'Kurt at work,' and figure out the _location_ of said work. It wasn't stalking. No illegal activities going on in the slightest.

They just wanted to meet the ever elusive Kurt, to pay their friend's new friend a visit. Their friend's _gorgeous _new friend, if Blaine was to be believed.

So that's what they did. After a week of letting Blaine think he had them right where he wanted them, ignorant of Kurt's whereabouts and what he even looked like aside from Blaine's dreamy descriptions, Nick told Blaine that he and Jeff wouldn't be able to make it to their weekly game night. Blaine had pouted and used his puppy dog eyes in a futile attempt to get them to cancel whatever appointment they thought was more important than game night. They had almost caved, but really nothing could be more fun than meeting Kurt.

* * *

"I almost feel bad about lying to the poor sod," Jeff comments idly from the passenger seat of Nick's black SUV. They're halfway to Lima and by now the music playing from the radio has lost his attention. Instead he looks out the window at the trees blurring by, the occasional pothole jarring him.

"We did what we had to do," Nick counters, keeping his eyes firmly on the road when Jeff sighs in response. "Oh c'mon. It's not like we're doing anything bad. We're just going to say hi."

"Still."

"I think you're going soft in your old age, Sterling."

Jeff snorts, sitting up fully in his seat and hitting Nick on his forearm. Nick whines in protest and Jeff smirks. "I think you're the one going soft, Duval."

"Shut up."

"Hey, aren't you supposed to turn there?" Jeff inquires, his arm lifting to point at the passing street sign through the windshield.

Nick pulls the car to a halt in the middle of the road, sticks his head out of the driver's side window, and cranes around to look at the street sign just behind him. "Shit. Yes." He then makes a quick yet efficient U-turn and turns right onto the correct street.

Jeff laughs. "And you say I'm hopeless with directions."

Nick turns to him and sticks out his tongue. "Because you are."

"Eyes on the road."

"Whatever."

A few seconds pass in relative silence, the only sounds to be heard coming from the pleasant background noise of the radio and the hum of the car's engine. Then the opening notes of the self-recorded "The Gavel Song" shrills throughout the interior. Nick groans while Jeff grins.

"Just answer it already," Nick growls.

Jeff waits an extra ring before pulling the offending object from his pocket and sliding his finger across the screen. "Hello, mighty gaveled one."

"Where are you guys?" Wes' voice sounds through the line. Jeff's volume is so high on his cell that Nick can clearly hear the elder Warbler's voice from the driver's seat.

"Almost there. You and David there already?"

"We parked around the corner." There's a pause while Wes conveys to David that Nick and Jeff are close by. Then he says, "I still don't see why we're doing this."

"Oh Wessy, you know you want to see Kurt as badly as we do."

"Blaine would have brought him by in his own time. We don't even know if they're really an item."

"Of course they are," Jeff scoffs in return. "Have you heard our dear Blainers at all the last few days? Kurt this. Kurt that. Kurt, Kurt, _Kurt_. If that's not the sound of a boy smitten, I don't know what is."

"I still think this is a bad idea. Blaine will go nuts if he finds out."

"But he won't."

"Tell them we're around the corner," Nick instructs as he turns left.

"See you in a second, Wes. And don't chicken out." With that, Jeff hangs up the call in the midst of Wes rushing to say something before the line clicks dead.

Sitting half a block ahead, they spot Wes and David standing outside of Wes' navy blue sedan. They seem to be arguing over something, mostly likely how much of an ass Jeff is. Nick pulls his car to a smooth halt behind Wes' sedan, shifting the gear to park and pulling the parking brake on as a precaution.

Exiting the vehicle quietly, letting the doors fall softly shut behind them, the crafty duo tiptoe over to where their council members stand, still oblivious to their arrival.

" - hung up mid-sentence! I mean who does that?"

"Total dick move."

"Thank you for empathizing, David."

"Sure thing bro."

"You two," Jeff begins.

"Are so dumb," Nick finishes.

Wes just sighs while David shrugs innocently.

"So where is this infamous Kurt located exactly?" Wes asks after a sufficient amount of silent glaring has passed.

"A mechanic's garage."

"Hold on, Blaine has a grease monkey kink?" David interjects disbelievingly.

"We didn't believe it at first either," Nick consoles. "But apparently, yeah."

"Are we really going to do this? "Wes asks reticently.

"Don't be an ass, Wessy."

"I'm just saying -"

"Pssh, like David's any better," Nick interrupts flippantly. "Look at him, following Wes' every decision like a whipped puppy."

"Not even," David retorts. "I am an individual and I do what I want."

"Then you're in?"

"Of course I'm in," David agrees, stepping over to stand beside his fellow Warblers. The three then turn their eyes to Wes.

Wes stares each of them down with the glare he usually reserves for ridiculous suggestions at Warbler council meetings, but none of the three concede even a tiny bit. The eldest among them then sighs, not even bothering to hide his exasperation, and says, "Fine. But when this blows up in our faces, I _will _say 'I told you so.'"

After a few wrong turns, the quartet of high schoolers finally find the building they have been searching for. Nick allows Jeff to take the lead, David following behind, while he himself takes up the rear to ensure Wes doesn't attempt a secretive escape.

"Hummel Tire And Lube" is blazoned on a modest sign overhanging a wide garage, the edges of its wooden border interspersed with chinks and holes from various weather patterns over the years. Standing just behind the curb before the building, Jeff can already feel the stench of motor oil fill his nostrils. Opening his mouth to report back to the boys behind him brings in the faint taste of gasoline.

"Yep, this is the place."

Nick and David move to stand beside him, the trio taking in the building before them and the realization that their journey has reached its destination. Which means it's nearly time to meet Blaine's boy toy. Which is highly exciting, if not nerve-wracking.

Wes stands slightly behind them, arms crossed over his chest.

Jeff looks over his shoulder and sighs. "No killing the joy, Wes. Come on."

Wes groans but steps forward to join the line they've formed in front of the garage's property line. It feel so surreal, being so close yet being one step away from never having been here at all.

"On we go," Nick cheers, lifting his arm to point at the door directly before them as if they're about to just start their journey rather than end it.

Jeff laughs at his silliness and takes the initiative, as he has been all day with this objective, by moving forward toward the door that leads to the answer to their question: Who is this Kurt Hummel that has stolen their lead's (because honestly Blaine was the lead and everyone knew it) heart?

* * *

_**A/N: Hope you guys love the actual meeting just as much as I do.**_

_**(The real reason why I split this in two is I'm a horrible person who didn't get any writing done this week but I wanted you all to have a little something to chew on while I write the actual meeting so please don't hate me.)**_


	5. Well, Maybe The Mechanic Himself

**_A/N: Hello readers, old and new. Two updates in a row, you say? Well, I felt like I owed it to you after what you probably felt when you saw chapter four._**

**_Warning: this chapter is mainly dialogue._**

**_Hope you enjoy!_**

* * *

Stepping through the front door of Hummel Tire and Lube feels like entering another world. The sounds of outside are muffled or entirely silenced by the grinding of tools, the smell is overwhelmingly _car_, and the cement floor of the workspace is stained every so often with oil or car grease. The black splotches almost make the floor look like a chessboard.

The lobby where customers sit to wait for assistance, however, is meticulously spotless. Cushiony white chairs line the wall, a variety of muscle car posters lining the drywall overhead. Jeff spots a Ferrari and a Mustang, but the rest of the vehicles are foreign to him. There's also a small mini-fridge set beside the service counter, filled with what Jeff assumes to be drinks for waiting customers. It's cozy, despite all the noise.

He turns to see Nick glancing around in awe, David admiring the car posters, and Wes looking around, probably for someone he can ask about Kurt so they can get out of there as soon as possible. Killjoy.

"Calm down, Wes. I can feel your anxiety all the way over here," he calls out teasingly.

"Shut up," is the forthcoming retort from the eldest Warbler present.

They stand around for another five minutes, caught up in this new world (seeing as none of them have ever needed to visit a mechanic before), before someone approaches them.

An older man, wearing worn overalls and a Buckeyes cap, walks toward them, closing in on them with every second. It's in that moment, watching what may be the owner walking toward them, that Jeff realizes he has no idea what he's going to say about his reasoning for being here. Should he just ask for Kurt outright? Maybe make up a problem with his car and see if they send Kurt out to check it?

Before he can settle his mind on an option, it's already too late.

"Hello boys," the man says, smiling genially. "The name's Burt. How can I help?"

"I'm Nick," Nick introduces with an outstretched arm. Burt shakes it and Nick looks significantly at the others, silently communicating that he is _not_ the one doing all the talking around here.

"Alright, Nick."

"I'm Jeff," Jeff adds before he can over-think it.

"Hello, Jeff."

"David, sir," David greets as he steps forward from beside his place at Wes' side.

"Nice to meet you, David."

When a few seconds pass and Wes makes no move at all, David introduces him by saying, "And that guy back there is Wes. Please excuse him. He can be a little shy."

"Understandable. Hello, Wes." Wes gives a little waves, determined to not be impolite despite how uncomfortable he is with this situation.

"Now then," Burt continues, "with the introductions being over, I'll ask again: what can I do to help you boys?"

"We were actually looking for Kurt," Jeff answers honestly.

"Oh?" Burt lifts his cap and rubs the back of his head for a second before replacing it. "How do you boys know my son?"

"You're Kurt's dad?" Nick inquires breathlessly. _Of course_ the first person they find would be Kurt's dad. He can already feel Wes' 'I told you so' triumphant smirk boring silently into the back of his head.

"I am," Burt responds. "What of it?"

"Nothing, sir," David interjects before things can become tense. "We're just a little surprised is all."

"I see that," Burt observes, a hint of suspicion coloring his words. "What do you want with my son? You can't be friends of his since I've never heard of you. If you're looking for trouble, I'll have you know I have connections with the local police and a shotgun registered in my name."

"No, sir, not looking for trouble at all," David rushes to reassure. He subtly shakes his head at Nick and Jeff, instructing them to stop talking before they make things worse.

"We're friends of Blaine," Wes pipes in from his position just behind the others. He steps forward and looks Burt right in the eye saying, "He says wonderful things of your son and we were a bit curious." He tilts his head in Niff's direction and adds, "This was their harebrained scheme to meet Kurt."

Burt nods in recognition at Blaine's name, smiling a bit at Jeff and Nick's bashful faces. He has a feeling they don't look like that often. "I do know of Blaine. Kurt speaks well of him too."

"Thank you for understanding," Wes says politely. "We're sorry for bothering you. We'll just be going now. I'm sure you have plenty of work to do around here."

"But we didn't even meet Kurt," Jeff splutters, breaking the unspoken vow of silence placed upon him.

"He's not here anyway," Burt confides. "He's out of town on a shopping trip with his gal pals."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Jeff visibly slumps and Nick wraps an arm around his shoulders comfortingly. Out of them all, Jeff was the most excited about meeting Kurt and now apparently all of their planning had been for naught. Even Wes feels a bit of pity for his fellow Warbler despite being completely against this exposition from the beginning.

"Could you tell us about him, maybe?" Nick asks, in hopes that at least hearing about Kurt from a reliable source will make Jeff feel a little better about their failed objective.

"I'd love to talk about how wonderful my son is, what parent doesn't?" Burt jokes. "But I've got work to do boys. So if you wanna stay, you're gonna have to work."

Jeff's entire face lights up at the prospect of hearing stories about Kurt and sharing embarrassing ones about Blaine in return. He looks at Nick with hopeful eyes, pleading with his friend (and his ride) to stay. It can't be that hard to help Burt with the cars.

Nick sighs resignedly. He should have just left it alone. But no, he had to go and be a good friend. "That sounds great, Burt."

"Yes!" Jeff pumps his hand in the air, to the amusement of everyone around him.

"Unfortunately, we have to get back to Dalton," Wes comments. A tiny crease forms in his brow and his eyes show a tinge of regret. Apparently Wes isn't as incurious as he makes himself out to be. "David and I have Warbler business that needs tending to."

"Our Glee club," David adds when Burt simply looks at them blankly.

"You boys sing too?" Burt inquires. The boys nod. "Well I'm glad you'll all have at least one thing in common with my boy. Makes building friendships a lot easier."

The four Warblers smile at the implication that Burt has accepted them. He's not nearly as intimidating as he appears at first glance, with his gruff features and tone of voice. Unless he's talking about his shotgun, that is.

Wes and David give their final farewells, leaving Niff behind in the capable hands of Burt Hummel. Hopefully they won't break any of the expensive equipment.

Jeff and Nick follow Burt into his office where he lends them some one-size-fits-all overalls to protect their street clothes during their visit to the garage. He then leads their small group toward the back of the garage, stopping beside a purple sedan sitting a few feet above the ground suspended in the air by one of those machines Jeff has called a 'car elevator' for as long as he can remember. He has no idea what its technical name is.

"What do you boys know about fixing cars?"

Nick and Jeff look at each other blankly.

"Thought so," Burt says after digging through his toolbox to find the right sized socket wrench. "Can you manage to hand me the tools as I ask for them?"

They look at each other again, this time with Nick nodding. His brother taught him how to distinguish basic hand tools when they were younger, so he should be able to handle it.

"Right then. You hand me tools," he says while pointing toward Nick. "And you," he says in Jeff's direction, "tell me more about Blaine. I want to know what type of circle my son is getting into."

The next three hours fly by as the two boys regale Burt with various memories involving their curly-haired friend. Burt seems impressed when they mention Blaine has led the Warblers for nearly three years now. He looks even more impressed when they tell him about the Gap Attack, which surprises Niff a little, to which Burt replies, "The kid's got guts."

By the time they arrive back at Dalton, they don't even realize Burt hadn't told them a single thing about his son until much later in the night.

* * *

Kurt just can't bring himself to stop texting Blaine, even though he should be dedicating more of his time and attention to the sales around him. Columbus' mall delivers just as well as their online advertising suggests, if not better. He should be trying on a pair of designer jeans, miraculously both his size and in his price range. Or even admiringly running his fingers across the smooth fabric of a cashmere scarf he could never afford. But no, he's staring at his phone giddily awaiting the next text from Blaine.

Mercedes and Rachel can be heard rustling inside the fitting rooms from where Kurt stands guarding their treasure trove of clothing. Unlike himself, the girls shop unencumbered by other thoughts and take full advantage of every store they venture into.

Kurt's phone beeps and he hurries to read the message that pops up.

_Having fun in Columbus?_

Kurt smiles at the simple words, his heart fluttering at the sight of them, at the knowledge of being on Blaine's mind.

_Yeah_, he types, _though I'm not shopping half as much as I should be._

Standing here now, smiling as he looks down on the bright screen of his cell phone, brings back the reminder of how far his life has come in only a few short days. Blaine entering his life changes not only his outlook on love, because maybe he _can_ find someone in Ohio after all, but also his outlook on little things, like the way Blaine's smile comes unbidden into his mind when he's having a bad morning and instantly lifts his mood or the way a simple word from Blaine can leave him smiling like a lovesick sap when from anyone else it would be just another word.

Kurt's phone beeps again and he checks to make sure Rachel and Mercedes are still occupied before he checks it. He's not embarrassed or ashamed of his friendship with Blaine, quite the contrary. But it's so fresh and new, him having friends outside of the guys and gals of New Directions, that he's determined to savor the secrecy of it for as long as possible. Once one person knows, they'll all know. Keeping Blaine's existence to himself somehow makes everything feel more intimate, more real.

_Why's that?_

_Because you're distracting me._

_I'm sorry. _The reply comes seconds later, a smiley face added at the end that makes Kurt laugh.

_No you're not._

_Sorry not sorry? _Along with yet another smiley face.

_That I can believe._ Kurt hits send just in time to slide his phone away as Mercedes and Rachel exit the confinement of the fitting rooms to ask his opinion on several tops, a few dresses, and six varying pairs of jeans. He gives his honest critique of each, relishing the familiarity of it as well as the time spent with his girls. They really need to do trips like this more often.

After visiting every shop in the mall and two stops in the food court, the trio of shoppers finally feel ready to drop. Kurt instructs the girls to take the purchases to his car out in the lot while he makes a pit stop at the bathroom. There's a long drive ahead of them and he prefers to not worry over his bladder if he can help it.

As he washes his hands after taking care of business his phone begins to ring, the words to "I Want To Hold Your Hand" by The Beatles filling the otherwise silent room. Kurt dries his hands quickly and fumbles to answer the call before it can go to voicemail.

"Hey, Dad," he answers a little more breathlessly than he would have liked.

"Hey, kiddo. How's the mall?"

"The sales were phenomenal, as advertised. Better than anything I could ever find in Lima."

"I'm happy for you. Didn't spend too much, did you?"

"Of course not. You know I stick to my budget, which is a reasonable one despite what you think."

"I'll never understand paying thirty dollars for a plain white T-shirt."

"It's all about the fit and the fabric. But I won't bore you."

"I appreciate that. Heading home soon?"

"Yeah, we're just about to leave."

"Alright. Drive safe."

"I will."

"I love you."

"Love you too."

"Oh and son?"

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Next time you talk to Blaine, you might wanna tell him to keep his friends on a shorter leash."

Kurt involuntarily tenses with confusion. "What?"

Burt, hearing the befuddlement in his son's voice, just laughs. "Don't worry. He'll understand."

* * *

_**A/N: I wrote the second half of this chapter on my tablet so I apologize if it looks weird. The chapter turned out shorter than I expected it to be, so I added the second scene with Burt/Kurt/Blaine just because.**_

_**I just want to say I love Niff and Burt a lot.**_


	6. Something Wicked This Way Comes

_**A/N: Imagine this as a filler/preview for the chapter coming up on Sunday.**_

_**Anyway, hope you guys enjoy.**_

* * *

Blaine sits on the white leather couch in his living room, studiously ignoring the chaos surrounding him. After a few years at Dalton he learned fairly quickly that Jeff and Nick loved to make trouble and that most of the Warblers were only too happy to join in. Instead he focuses on the bizarre text he had just received from his maybe boyfriend. He and Kurt could be considered boyfriends, right?

_My dad said to tell you that 'you might want to keep your friends on a shorter leash.' Whatever that means._

Blaine stares at the words, letting them filter in and out of his mind in a hundred different ways. A shorter _leash_. On his _friends_. Might want _to keep them on a shorter leash_. Whatever _that_ means.

Then suddenly it hits him like the most obvious thing in the world, because really it kind of is.

"NIFF!"

The cacophony of noises suddenly dies down. The other Warblers who had come over to Blaine's house for some fun ("And Regionals talk," Wes added sternly when they had all arrived at first, even though no such talk has commenced and no one expected it to), know that tone of voice and immediately head for the door leading to the backyard and the always accessible in-ground pool, shooting Jeff and Nick either sympathetic smiles or manic grins at the prospect of their getting chewed out by Blaine.

Jeff, for his part, tries to quietly sneak outside with the rest of the group and leave Nick to handle the brunt of it, but Nick will have none of that. The brunette grabs the blond by the elbow with a vice grip and drags him over to where Blaine now stands, silently seething with his cell phone clutched tightly in his right hand.

"Why didn't you let me go?" Jeff whines, rubbing his elbow when Nick has deemed him to no longer project the vibe of a flight risk and releases his iron grip.

"This was all your idea!" Nick whisper-shouts in retort.

"_You_ were the one who got the address from his phone," Jeff argues.

"Which I never would have done if _you_ hadn't suggested the idea of finding Kurt in the first place," Nick counters.

"Well I'm _sorry_ if we both wanted to get to know more about him."

"Don't bring me into this more than you already have, Jeffy. This was _your_ idea and now _you_ have to face the consequences."

"I don't care _whose_ idea it was," Blaine interjects menacingly. "What did you do?"

"We maybe, might have, went to the car garage," Jeff mumbles, his voice hushed and a sharp contrast from his normal boisterous volume.

"WHY?" Blaine hears his voice echo in the room and clears his throat, then brings his voice down to a more socially acceptable level with a frustrated sigh. "Why?"

"We wanted to meet Kurt."

"And you were being mean and wouldn't let us talk to him or anything."

"For a reason," Blaine points out tiredly.

"We would have behaved!"

"Yeah. There would have been nice stories told, and kind compliments given. Nothing less and nothing more."

"I don't believe you two for a second."

"Fine, don't believe us."

"But we really did want to meet Kurt."

Blaine runs his hand over his face, his shoulders losing their tension. "I guess I can understand that," he says, to the surprise of both Jeff and Nick. "He _is_ pretty incredible, after all."

"Oh… my God, you're so in love with him you're going to let us off the hook!"

"Praise whatever being brought Kurt into Blaine's life."

"Amen to that brother."

"Guys, shut up." The duo standing across from Blaine rein in their unreserved joy at being let off the hook to look at their group's lead expectantly. "How does Kurt's dad fit into all of this?"

"Oh yeah, almost forgot about that," Jeff responds, deceptively scratching the back of his neck while elbowing Nick in the back.

"Ow," Nick said aloud with an upset glance at Jeff. "What was that for?"

"I don't know what you mean," Jeff replies, looking significantly into Nick's eyes for a moment before returning his attention to a now suspicious Blaine.

"Oh," Nick breathes quietly, the unsaid message finally received successfully. "Yeah, we saw Kurt's dad. He kind of wormed some information out of us. Who we were, how we knew Kurt, basic stuff like that."

"You met Kurt's dad before me?" Blaine splutters incredulously. "Great. Now he has a bad impression of me."

"I take offense to that," Jeff instantly comments.

"As do I," Nick adds.

"And for the record, thanks to us, he has a great impression of you."

"My fellow Warbler makes a valid point. When we got there Burt thought you were maybe a bad influence, maybe one of those rich kids who does drugs on the side. But we set him straight."

"Yep. Told him all about your academic achievements, about how nice your hair looks, and how you're too much of a goody-goody to even look at drugs, let alone try any."

"If you think that's enough to get you off the shit list, you are sorely mistaken," Blaine threatens calmly.

Jeff whimpers, hiding behind Nick in an attempt to escape Blaine's imminent wrath. Nick rolls his eyes at the gesture, more than used to Jeff's cowardice by now. Sharing a room with the blond has desensitized him to his crazy antics for the most part.

"But," Blaine adds after a satisfying amount of seeing Jeff tremble and Nick try his best to _not_ show any response, "I'll let you go. For now."

Jeff, the total drama king he is, immediately leaps out from behind the safety of Nick's body and prostates himself at Blaine's feet. "I am eternally in your debt."

"Damn straight you are," Blaine mutters in response.

Just as Blaine finally convinces Jeff to get off the floor and stand on his own two feet like a normal human being, David rushes into the room, his eyes wide and his face creased in a telltale fashion for those who know him well enough.

Blaine fully turns his attention to the council member. "David, what's wrong?"

The senior strides directly to Blaine, his steps fast and purposeful. His voice comes out terse and tense. "Someone is here asking for you. They found Wes first."

"What are you talking about? Who's here?"

"Just come on," the elder tosses over his shoulder, not even waiting for the other three boys to take a step. "You'll see."

* * *

_**A/N: I apologize if this seems a little rushed, but in all honesty it was. I hadn't done any writing at all these last couple of weeks (puppy-sitting, not feeling up to it, working at the shop, going to Cinco De Mayo this past weekend) but I was determined to get you all an update this week before my brother woke up and took over the computer but I just couldn't get anything down, which sucks, so here we are now. And I was doing so well keeping to the schedule too.**_


	7. Who Are You?

_**A/N: This one is dedicated to **_1gleefan_**. You'll know why when you read it.**_

* * *

David strides quickly ahead, Blaine, Jeff, and Nick trailing in his wake trying to keep their minds from overflowing with bad thoughts. David isn't usually so tense. Careful with his words maybe, but rarely short as he's been since his announcement. Blaine falls slightly behind, his mind whirring. What if Burt hadn't believed Jeff and Nick, did some digging, found Blaine's home address somehow (the auto shop paperwork!), and was now present to give his two cents (or maybe two barrels) on how Blaine had moved in so quickly on his only son? What if Burt was the possessive type of dad that let no one approach their child, let alone some stranger?

He couldn't keep himself from his irrational worries despite every story Kurt had told over the last few days about Burt being a teddy bear once you got to know him. Burt seemed nice enough from what Jeff and Nick had related from their time with him, but they were on a completely different level than Blaine. They weren't interested in dating Burt Hummel's son.

_Whoa, slow down. Now I'm getting way ahead of myself. Who knows if Kurt is even in a place where he wants a relationship?_

Before he can pursue that line of thought any further, he walks straight into Nick's back. Rubbing his forehead and grunting at the sudden impact, Blaine leans to the right to see what the hold up is. What meets his eyes is two teenagers he's never seen before keeping Wes within their intense gazes.

He's not going to lie, he's already a little intimidated just by their looks. The guy, dressed all in black with chains hanging from his pockets and a confident smirk on his face, leans comfortably against the wall while the girl, her figure striking in a form-fitting jumpsuit and formidable stilletto heels and wearing an equally confident smirk, stands before Wes. Blaine can't tell who's in charge between the two of them, but his inner voice tells him neither one should be willingly messed with. Then the boy's gaze leaves Wes and lands on the new arrivals to the room, his eyes sweeping the small group before finally settling on Blaine.

"Look who finally decided to show up to his own party," he comments, idly chewing on a toothpick set in the right side of his mouth. He motions with his foot to get his friend's attention.

She too looks at Blaine and her smirk intensifies into a smile, which is somehow even more intimidating than the smirk she wore before. Her eyes gleam with mischief and Blaine wonders who they are and just what the hell he's gotten himself into.

"Hello, Hobbit. You look smaller in person, which I didn't think was possible."

"Who are you?" Ignoring the anxiety fluttering within him, Blaine keeps his voice steady and unaffected.

"Us?" The guy straightens up, revealing another inch or two to his height. "We're your worst nightmare."

"Or," the girl adds from her position in front of Wes, "the best allies you could ever ask for."

Blaine ignores the cryptic answers and tries another approach. "How did you know where I live?"

"I have sources," one shrugs.

"As do I," the other chimes in.

Blaine sighs. This is going nowhere. Might as well see what their intentions are. "Okay... What do you want from me?"

"That's the fun part, actually. We're here to deliver a message."

"I'm Puck and my girl here is Santana. We're close friends of Kurt's. We've heard about you," the boy says, finally giving Blaine the answers he's been wanting since the moment he spotted them. He walks closer, his eyes boring into Blaine's with every step. Blaine feels an involuntary shiver run down the back of his neck. "I'll keep this short and simple: You mess with our boy, and you'll be messing with us. And we don't tolerate being messed with. Do we, Tana?"

"Hell to the no. I have razorblades in my hair for a reason."

Puck nods satisfactorily. He then returns all his attention to Blaine, leaving the room in silence for a few seconds before finally speaking again. "You got the message now, Blaine?"

Blaine finds the strength within himself to give the affirmative in a level voice. On the inside he feels like his intestines are on fire.

"Good. We'll be taking our leave now. This party sucks."

"Remember Gel Head, you hurt Kurt and we hurt you."

"But we'd much prefer to not reach that point. We could all be friends, you know."

Blaine nods, unsure how to handle their sudden change in tone.

Puck slaps him jovially on the back, his face breaking into a genuine smile, and Santana laughs. In that moment Blaine sees a glimpse of what Kurt must see in them. Kindness, loyalty, an abnormal sense of humor. He thinks maybe, if he and Kurt take what they have to the next level, he could be friends with these two, if only they'd let him.

"Later, Garglers."

"They're named after birds, Puck. Sheesh, even I know that."

"Whatever."

With the sound of the door closing behind them cutting off any further sounds of their conversation, the Warblers come alive, the spell of the intruders broken at last.

"What was that?!"

"Is Kurt some gangster or something?"

"Is he secretly famous and those two were his bodyguards?"

"I don't know man, they weren't really that buff."

"Maybe not, but I know I was a little scared."

"Should we call the police and report them for trespassing?"

"Blaine is crazy for putting himself into this, if you ask me."

"Enough!" Blaine shouts over the hubbub. "We're not calling the police, Kurt isn't some secretly famous gangster, and luckily for you Wyatt, no one asked you."

"This is absurd!"

"Shut up, Thad."

"Guys, you all need to calm down. We met Kurt's dad," Jeff interjects, motioning between himself and Nick, "and I can guarantee you that Kurt isn't a gangster."

"Yeah, he's an everyday kind of guy," Nick adds. "And if Blaine is so in love with Kurt already that he's not even scared of those two people that just left, I think it's safe to say we should support him and not bash some guy none of us has even met."

The others nod and voice their apologies for jumping to such ridiculous conclusions. It reminds Blaine of the few times the principal had entered the choir room and given them a stern talking to after a Warblers' prank gone horribly wrong.

"Now that we have that settled," says a voice from the corner of the room. Wes steps fully into the throng of Warblers, David as ever standing at his side. "We should discuss our options for Regionals this year."

A collective groan fills the air but this time no one voices any opposition to the idea. This time, they could use some singing and tedious choreography to distract their minds from what just happened.

The group of boys sits where they stand, effectively covering every inch of the hardwood floor. Blaine pays the barest minimum of attention to what gets discussed around him, his mind set on something more important. A certain someone named Kurt Hummel.

* * *

_**A/N: So, was anyone surprised? Everyone who reviewed thought one of the Hummels would be showing up, but nope. Pucktana does their research when their boy is involved. It'll be explained more next chapter, when Kurt finds out what they had the audacity to do. Should be fun. :)**_


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